


Molluscs

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Vignette, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis gets free dinner.





	Molluscs

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: “What if Ignis was half man half snail. Like he had a giantass shell on his back and could retreat into it at will” This is what happens when you actually follow through on the nonsense you write down at night.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

As soon as he steps in the door, he knows that Ignis is home, because the air smells delicious and the low hum of the radio wafts through from the kitchen. Noctis kicks out of his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket whilst silently praying that dinner’s vegetable-free. That would be his preference, but in reality, he’s grateful that Ignis is making him anything at all. He’s not as entitled as he used to be, growing up in the Citadel with servants who’d never level with him the way that Ignis does. 

He appreciates Ignis for all sorts of reasons, but he’s not good at expressing the mushy stuff, so when Noctis wanders in out of the hall, all he grunts is, “Hey.”

Ignis glances over, standing, sure enough, in the kitchenette. His coral-coloured shell glimmers in the overhead fluorescent lights, his glasses pushed high up his nose. Ignis announces, “You’re just in time; dinner will be ready in a moment.” Noctis nods. “How was the arcade?”

“Great. I won Prom one of those giant chocobo plushies. It was so ugly I thought it was a malformed coeurl at first, but you should’ve seen his smile.”

“I suspect the smile had less to do with the gift and more to do with the giftee,” Ignis quips, which has Noctis blushing and making a spluttering noise of denial. Ignis doesn’t bother to look over at Noctis’ embarrassment; he’s returned to the broth he’s slowly stirring. “But the important thing is that you had fun, given that the new semester starts on Monday.”

Noctis groans, “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s a courtesy to do so, so you can make sure to enjoy your final few days of freedom.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. It doesn’t feel like freedom when the Citadel’s calling him over every other day, loading him up with more work than his university does. Noctis tries to maneuver around Ignis’ enormous shell to reach the cupboard where they keep the crackers, but Ignis slaps his hand away and informs him, “There’s already enough carbohydrates and sodium in this.”

Noctis grumbles, because he wants more. But he listens to Ignis and backs off. Retreating to lean against the island, he watches and waits for the soup to be ready. Then he spots a smudge of either hummus or mustard across Ignis’ outer swirl, and he diverts to the sink, collecting a dish cloth and returning to gently rub it away. Ignis goes stock still as Noctis carefully cleans him off—it feels like an honour for Ignis to allow him to do it at all, given how fragile the exoskeleton is. When Noctis was younger, he’d be scolded for trying to touch Ignis there.

Now he’s a responsible adult, and when Ignis scoops some soup into a bowl and passes it over, Noctis grunts a genuine, “Thank you.”


End file.
